LITMIR.BIZ

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nodded and delved in his pocket and tossed him the keys. ‘Mind you don’t crash it. Annie’ll kill us both.’

      ‘I’ll do my best,’ he said mildly. ‘Go on, you guys, go and have your climb and I’ll take Livvy back and come and get you when you’re done. Call me when you hit the track.’

      ‘Will do—and no more stunts, Henderson, we need you in one piece!’ Sam said as they headed off, leaving her alone with Matt.

      * * *

      He laughed and shook his head in disbelief.

      ‘I can’t believe I’m so stupid.’

      She looked up at him, her face puzzled. ‘You are?’

      ‘Yes, me. I’ve spent the last three days trying to work out who you remind me of, and it’s just clicked. You’re Oliver Henderson’s daughter, aren’t you? It’s so blindingly obvious I can’t believe I didn’t see it. You’re the spitting image of him.’

      ‘Do you know him?’

      He perched on a rock in front of her so she didn’t have to tilt her head. ‘Yes, I was his registrar, years ago. He’s a great guy. I’m very fond of him, and your mother. How are they both?’

      ‘Fine. Doing really well. He’s about to turn sixty, but he doesn’t look it and he’s got no plans to retire and nor has Mum.’

      ‘I’m not surprised. They’re very dedicated.’

      ‘They are. Dad just loves surgery, and Mum would be bored to bits without the cut and thrust of ED, so I can’t see them retiring until they’re forced, frankly! So, when were you at the Audley Memorial? I must have been at uni or I’d remember you, unless you’re much older than you look.’

      He chuckled. ‘I’m thirty-six now and I was twenty-seven, so that’s—wow, nine years ago.’

      ‘So I must have been twenty then, which explains it, because I didn’t come home a lot in those days. I had a busy social life at uni, and it was a long way from Bristol to Suffolk.’

      ‘Yes, it is. Give them my love when you speak to them.’

      ‘I will. I’ll call them later today.’

      ‘So, how are we going to do this?’ he asked quietly, getting back to the core business, and she shrugged.

      ‘I have no idea. I can’t hop all the way down, but I can’t walk on it either, so it looks like the bottom shuffle thing.’

      ‘Or I can carry you,’ he suggested, knowing she’d argue.

      ‘How? Don’t be ridiculous, it’s not necessary. And anyway, I weigh too much.’

      He laughed at that, because she hardly came up to his chin and, sure, she was strong, but she definitely wasn’t heavy, he knew that because he and Sam had already carried her to the path. He got to his feet.

      ‘Come on, then, sling your arm round my neck and let’s see how we get on with assisted hopping.’

      Slowly, was the answer. He had to stoop, of course, because she was too short to reach his shoulder otherwise, and after a while they had to change sides, but she said it hurt her ribs, which left only one option.

      He stopped and went down on one knee.

      ‘Are you proposing to me?’ she joked, and it was so unexpected he laughed. Ish.

      ‘Very funny. Get on my back.’

      ‘I can’t!’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘Because I’m not five and I’ll feel like an idiot!’

      He straightened up, unable to stifle the laugh. ‘You just fell off the path!’ he said, and she swatted him, half cross, half laughing, and he couldn’t help himself. He gathered her into his arms, hugged her very gently and brushed the hair away from her eyes as he smiled ruefully down at her.

      ‘I’m sorry. That was mean.’

      ‘Yes, it was. I feel silly enough without you laughing at me.’

      ‘Yeah, I know. I’m sorry,’ he said again, and then because he’d been aching to do it for days and because she was just there, her face tipped up to his, her clear blue eyes rueful and apologetic and frustrated, he bent his head and touched his lips to hers.

      It was only meant to be fleeting, just a brush of his mouth against hers, but the tension that had been sizzling between them since they’d arrived on Friday morning suddenly escalated, and when her mouth softened under his he felt a surge of something he hadn’t felt for two years, something he’d thought he’d never feel again.

      Not lust. It wasn’t lust. That he would have understood. Expected, even, after so long. But this was tenderness, yearning, a deep ache for something more, something meaningful and fulfilling, something he’d lost, and it stopped him in his tracks.

       What was he doing?

      He pulled away and cleared his throat.

      ‘Come on, let’s get you down to the bottom and I’ll go and get the car and come back for you. And I will carry you, because frankly it’ll be easier for both of us and if I don’t get you off this mountain safely your father’ll kill me.’

      He turned his back on her, knelt down again and told her to get on, and after a moment’s hesitation, when he could almost hear her fighting her instincts, she leant into him, wrapped her arms round his neck and let him hoist her up onto his back.

      He wrapped her legs round his waist and straightened up with a little lurch, and she gave a tiny shriek that morphed into a giggle.

      ‘This is ridiculous,’ she said, and he started to laugh.

      Her arms tightened round his throat. ‘Don’t mock me.’

      ‘I’m not mocking you, I promise,’ he said, stifling the laugh, and she loosened her arms around his neck and rested her head against his with a sigh.

      ‘I’m so sorry I messed up your day,’ she murmured in his ear, and the drift of her warm breath teased his skin and the feelings he’d thought he’d suppressed roared into life again.

      ‘Don’t be,’ he said gruffly, trying not to think about his hands locked together under her bottom. Her undoubtedly very, very cute bottom. ‘It was just an accident. So, tell me, why trauma?’ he asked to distract himself. ‘Why not general surgery, like your father?’

      ‘That’s probably Mum’s influence, and surgery’s still an option, but I’m undecided about it, and trauma’s a nice high-octane job.’

      He chuckled. ‘High-octane, sure, but I’m not sure I’d call it nice, especially the surgery. It can get pretty gory.’

      ‘So why did you choose it?’

      ‘I don’t know. Probably your father’s influence. I always wanted to be a surgeon, and when I was his registrar we had some interesting trauma cases and it just reeled me in. Yes, it’s gory, but it’s very gratifying when you can offer someone who’s been badly injured a better outcome.’

      ‘I would have thought you’d have been in London, then. That’s where a lot of the trauma cases are. More scope?’

      He felt his heart hitch. ‘Yeah, well, I’ve done London, and frankly in the year and a half I’ve been in Yoxburgh there’s been plenty to keep me busy.’

      More than enough, and nothing to do with his job. Not that he was going into details. He didn’t want to let reality intrude on a weekend that had been like a breath of fresh air after the roller coaster of the last two years, but that was all it was, a breath of fresh air, and it was going nowhere, he knew that, because there simply wasn’t room in his life for a relationship, however appealing. And anyway, there was an embargo

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